


Lipstick Stains

by raythehellagay



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Marvel, Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, M/M, Smoking, Spideypool - Freeform, cross dressing, fetishizing smoking, mega making out, probably some rimming tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 15:05:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18263783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raythehellagay/pseuds/raythehellagay
Summary: Peter really cant help but stare; originally he hated that Wade picked up smoking (again?), hated the smell, the taste of it on his tongue, all of it. Gradually he became accustomed, didn't like it persay but wasn't so bothered.But now -- well. He couldn't help but stare.





	Lipstick Stains

**Author's Note:**

> the lipstick im thinking of is matte, dark purple, and doesnt actually stain anything. stays on stupid well. a shame, but also, nice.

Peter really cant help but stare; originally he hated that Wade picked up smoking (again?), hated the smell, the taste of it on his tongue, all of it. Gradually he became accustomed, didn't like it persay but wasn't so bothered.

But now -- well. He couldn't help but stare.

Seeing Wade in women's clothes -- in _his_ "women's" clothes -- wasn't a rare sight. It was obvious that Wade just enjoyed dressing up sometimes, be it masculine or feminine, and Peter was alright with that. He was more than alright with that, really; rather fond, in fact. Makeup was a new addition somewhere along the way but it wasn't really a startling one, mostly startling in that Wade was willing to look at his own face long enough to put it on.

Peter could introspect on that later though.

For now he was busy staring at Wade's lips, plush and dark purple and half hidden behind the curls of smoke snaking out of his mouth.

 _Fuck_.

He had tuned out of whatever Wade was saying at this point, thoroughly distracted by the shape of his lips and the almost artful way they curled around soft vowels and hard consonants, the pauses when they were wrapped around the end of a cigarette. He knew he was staring, knew he was being obvious as fuck about it too, but he didn't really care at this point, mostly just wanted to kiss Wade breathless.

Wade paused for a moment in his conversation with himself (and the boxes), noticing Peter zoning out and only taking a moment to figure out why. The second he did, though, his lips quirked up into a smirk, taking another drag and gently, slowly breathing out the smoke, watching it dissipate into the air with a satisfied gleam in his eye.

"So," he said, drawing the vowel out. "Whaddya think? Any science-y jargon to throw in to the plan, just to make it legit?"

It took Peter a second to even realize Wade had asked him a question, another second to remember what exactly he asked, and then another second to realize it was all in the name of snark and he'd been 100% caught in the act. Not that it really mattered. Wade loved to be a tease.

"Sure, yeah. Biochemistry. Rewriting neural pathways. Photons. Dioxyribonucleus acid. Uterotonic drugs and Postpartum depression. Miss anything?" he shot back, unwilling to feel sorry for his staring. Wade liked it when he stared anyways.

He took a moment just to appreciate the picture he made, sat on the couch in a knee length, black circle skirt, pale pink crop top, winged eyeliner, and that _fucking_ purple lipstick. There might be some glitter somewhere in there too. Probably.

"Sweetheart you seem a bit distracted, are you okay?" Wade asked, the concern in his voice marred by the smirk still painting his lips, his free hand going to rest gently on Peter's knee.

Peter almost jumped at the contact, stifling it to something closer to a full body twitch, and his eyes darkened at Wades teasing tone.

"I'm fine, just can't help it when there's someone so pretty. Babe you know how much I can't help myself when it comes to gorgeous people." he says, deciding to say fuck it and grabbing Wade's cigarette to put it out in a nearby ashtray before climbing into his lap, forearms resting on his shoulders and faces close. He murmurs, "God, you're fuckin killin' me here doll."

He barely gives Wade a chance to blush at the praise and the pet-name before kissing him, something gentle but certainly not chaste. He licks into Wade's mouth with ease, arching up against his chest to feel the warmth of his skin as he mentally reassesses his willingness to put up with the smokey taste; if it was something like this he might be willing to make some amendments to his original stance.

Wade's hands go to Peter's lower back almost the second he's in the larger man's lap, sliding up under his shirt quickly to brush up and down his back, relishing in their comfortable skinship. It was something precious to him in and out of moments like these, something he treasured and wouldn't trade for the world.

Enough fuckin mush though.

Peter quickly turned the kiss fast and almost frantic, hands going from dangling off the back of the couch to cradling Wade's jaw to pushing up his shirt, always a sucker for the way he gasped and squirmed when you played with his nipples.

And Wade did just that, pressing up into Peter's touch and biting at his lip in retaliation, almost wishing he could leave lipstick stains all down his neck. Maybe later. He does, however, nudge Peter's chin up, nosing at the side of his neck, pressing small open mouthed kisses to the skin there and just barely grazing it with his teeth. The way Peter's hands faltered on his chest and as he whimpered was intoxicating, and he was so hard already, impressively enough not making an incredibly noticable tent of the skirt; the bulge, however, wasn't exactly small itself.

He rolled up hips up against Peter, gritting his teeth in irritation at the awkwardness of their position, him sitting half angled underneath Peter as he was. He lifted Peter out of his lap, giving an answering hum to Peter's moan at being manhandled like he weighed nothing, laying him down on the couch and leaning over him to kiss him into the couch, happily biting at and sucking on his lips. Peter grabbed the back of Wade's shirt in two fists, pressing up into him and wrapping his legs around Wade's middle. Fuck he loved his waist.

He let go of his shirt to slide his hands down Wade's back, grabbing his ass over his skirt and using it as leverage to rut up against him. He pulls back just enough to breath, losing his composure quickly.

Wade grabs Peter's hip to hold him still, sliding his hand over to cup his erection over his pants, so fucking hot for this man. After a few awkward, uncoordinated strokes ( _fuck this stupid couch for being too small, fuck Peter for wearing fucking jeans at home, fuck space for being stupid_ ) he goes to undo the button on Peter's pants, yanking his zipper down and shoving his hand unceremoniously down his pants, his breath hitching at the wet spot on the front of his briefs.

He pulls back, stands up and admires the sight of Peter on the couch, flushed and panting and so fucking hard, before picking him up bridal style and carrying him to the bedroom. He tosses Peter down onto the bed, not unkindly, before straddling his waist and caging him in with forearms on either side of his head. Wade kisses Peter gently, a slow side of their lips and tongues, a sharp contrast to the near desperation from only moments before. Quickly, though, it turns just as filthy,. and Wade decides, yeah, he's feelin some power bottom vibes today.

_Fuck yeah._

He pulls back and nips gently up Peter's jaw, murmuring, "Wanna sit on your face so bad, want you to open me up so I can take a seat, _fuck_ baby boy," before getting up to shuffle up, pausing when straddling his chest to give him a moment to check in. At Peter's soft smile and slight nod he grins, moving to hover his ass over Peter's face properly.

Peter lets his head fall back with a groan as his hands go to grab Wade's thighs, unsurprised at the the cotton and lace panties he's greeted with but so fucking turned on nonetheless, almost immediately surging up to push his skirt up and press a kiss to the spot just behind his balls. He runs a finger down the line of Wade's ass over the panties, teasing him before tugging the panties to the side to lick a wide stripe up his hole, smirking at the soft noise that earns him. He dives back in to poke and prod and lick, slowly opening Wade up with the kind of care and precision that says he's done this plenty of times before. He finally points his tongue and presses in past the now softer ring of muscle, digging his fingers into the sensitive skin of Wade's thighs just to hear him whine. He tongue fucks him relentlessly, taking the way Wade presses back against him with ease, pointedly ignoring that one spot that makes him scream.

He pulls back briefly to say, "lube," just loud enough for Wade to hear, and it takes the other man a moment to realize what he just said before leaning over to dig it out of his bedside table, dropping it by Peter's head before giving him a Look.

Peter grins for a moment, grabbing the lube to rest it under his thigh to warm it up before diving back in just long enough to get Wade nearly drooling again. The second he has Wade turning to putty in his hands he pulls away to lube up two fingers, ignoring Wade's belligerent whine and pressing them in slowly. At the same time he takes his free hand to grab the base of Wade's cock, tipping it down just enough that he can lick a strip up the bottom, pressing a gentle kiss to the head before swallowing it down with a practiced ease.

Wade groans, low and rumbling, gripping the headboard of their bed so tightly his knuckles turn white, the wood creaking in protest. He's torn, pressing back against Peter's fingers and forward into the heat of his mouth, a stream of filth coming from his mouth that he's not gonna bother to try and dissect, too lost in how expertly Peter can take him apart. He feels himself getting close, lost to letting out a stuttered, "ah ah ah" as he tries not to let himself go completely.

With a growl he pulls himself up and away from Peter's fingers and face, shimmying awkwardly down to settle between his legs like its his home (because it is), pulling Peter's pants and briefs off before wiggling out of his own underwear. He gives Peter one "Get ready you shithead" look before taking his dick, red and weeping, and immediately taking him down to the base and swallowing; he smirks as much as he can around a dick as Peter throws his head back with a shout, hands clutching the bedspread tightly. He bobs his head up and down, going between focusing all his attention on unraveling Peter with his tongue and watching him fall apart so beautifully. The second his thighs tense and he arches like hes about to come Wade grabs the base of his cock roughly, gripping tight enough to keep him from finding his release but not enough to hurt.

He quickly pulls off before straddling the brunettes hips again, taking his dick and teasing both himself and Peter, brushing against his entrance but never quite pressing down properly. He watches Peter bite his lip, sees how his eyes are focused on the movements between them, obscured by his skirt. He takes his freehand and drags the bottom of it up to bare himself to Peter fully, finally, fucking _finally_ , sinking down onto his dick the way he's wanted to for nearly half an hour now. He groans loudly as he sinks down inch by inch, pausing for a moment as he finally bottoms out to give himself a moment. When he finally moves he starts a shallow, fast pace, bouncing himself up and down on Peter's dick until he's nearly crying from it, holding him so he hits Wade's prostate with every thrust. He lets out a constant stream of, "fuck fuck baby oh fuck, so good, so good to me, love your dick so much, fills me up so good, can't wait to milk you dry, wanna feel your come leaking down my thighs, _fuck_ ," not quite lost in it so much to miss the way his words hit Peter like a brick, make him arch and gasp and groan, make him meet Wade movement for movement.

Peter rapidly feels his orgasm building, so worked up from all of it that hes sure hes not gonna last that long; he grabs Wade's dick and jacks him off in tandem with his thrusts, says, voice low and rough, "C'mon baby, come for me, lemme see you fall apart," as he ups the pace, watching Wade's face intently as he does just that.

Wade's mouth drops open, his eyes slipped shut, and rides it out; he lets out a choked sob as he comes, painting Peter's chest with his come and continuing to take Peter's dick even after he comes, mouth open and panting and watching Peter with hooded eyes. He lets out a groan as Peter comes, stilling against him, taking him as deep as he can go; he whimpers, oversensitive and trembling but so fucking satisfied.

He carefully gets up and flops down next to Peter face first into the bed, gracelessly wiggling out of his skirt to fling it off to the side somewhere.

They're both quiet for a moment other than their heavy breaths, Peter quickly getting up (and also nearly falling over with how wobbly his knees are) and going to the bathroom for a damp cloth, cleaning himself off and then bringing it over to Wade to clean him up just the same. He tosses the cloth towards the laundry hamper before climbing back onto the bed to press up against his side, smiling softly when a low rumble, almost a purr, starts coming from low in Wade's chest. Wade turns over to face Peter, wrapping his arms around him before the two fall asleep, feeling warm and sated. And if they woke up cold and sore and with makeup smeared across Wade's pillowcase, then -- well, it was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> these boys are such cocksluts and no one can tell me otherwise


End file.
